


an act of wanting

by quiettewandering



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettewandering/pseuds/quiettewandering
Summary: Dean's stupidly, hopelessly in love with Castiel, even though he knows he doesn't have a chance in hell with him.And the last thing that's going to help in this situation is a romantic nature walk with him.





	an act of wanting

**Author's Note:**

> "Let me live where I will, on this side is the city, on that the wilderness, and ever I am leaving the city more and more, and withdrawing into the wilderness".
> 
> -Walden, "Walking"
> 
> ***
> 
> (just an old tumblr drabble I'm posting here, for record-keeping's sake)

“Are you ready to go?”

Dean turns toward the voice; nearly sprains something as he doubles over, laughing. “Dude, what in the hell are you wearing?”

Cas scrunches his nose as he looks down at his outfit, protesting, “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“Oh, dude,” Dean laughs, wiping a tear from his eye, “you are wearing sandals with socks. I can’t be seen with you like this.”

Narrowing his eyes, Cas announces, “You don’t have to come with me. In fact, I don’t want you to, if this trip is just a pretext to mock me.”

“Just… “ Dean attempts for a serious face. The last thing he wants is an irritated Cas. He pokes at Cas’ baseball cap, disturbing the already-messy bedhair underneath. “Just, lose the cap, okay? It’s too jock-meets-nerdy-professor.”

“But the forecast says cloudless skies and sunny, and I don’t want to get burned,” Cas objects as Dean pushes him out the door.

“It’s called wearing sunscreen,” Dean says. He waits for Cas to lock the apartment, his long fingers fumbling for the correct key and turning it in the lock. “Ready?” Dean asks.

Cas turns. He looks nervous—clutching a backpack in one hand, a book in the other. “Dean, you know that you don’t have to accompany me. I know it’s not your type of outing. I know that the things I said to you last week might prompt you to think that you have to do this, but…”

Dean waves a hand to cut Cas off, smiling brightly in what he hopes is reassuring, and claps Cas on the back. “Of course I want to come, man. Besides, it’ll be fun going bird watching.”

Cas holds up the book to Dean’s face: a giant flower is plastered on the front. “I’m going to identify wildflowers, Dean.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Dean says. “Either way, it’ll be fun.”

Once they get to the parking lot, Cas begins walking toward Dean’s Impala rather than his own car, unprompted. Dean can’t help but grin; when he and Cas first became friends, they had endless spats about who would drive anywhere. Eventually, their silent compromise was Dean always driving, as long as Cas was in charge of the music. But if Dean’s honest with himself, he knows that he would have caved with the driving, too.

Probably because of the fact that he’s in love with him.

Dean tenses at the thought. He looks over at Cas nervously, as if the thought was loud enough for him to hear.

Quit it, he tells himself as he unlocks the car, jabs the key into the ignition. Not today.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Cas puts his backpack on his lap, glancing in Dean’s direction. He smiles; Dean returns it, feeling the tight feeling in his stomach loosen.

Today is for Cas. Cas, the friend who Dean has been avoiding lately because of his newly-discovered feelings for his best friend of 5 years. Cas, who showed up last weekend at his door with the saddest look on his face, asking what he did wrong to have Dean pull away from their friendship.

Cas, who can’t help the fact that he’s smart and adorable and scrunches his nose endearingly when he’s confused—who can’t help the fact that Dean is hopelessly in love with him.

He glances over at the source of his simultaneous stress and desire: Cas has got a smile in his eyes, and the sun is framing his dark hair.

Swallowing hard, Dean trains his eyes forward onto the road and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Yup. He’s screwed.

“So you gonna direct me or what, Cas?”

Cas blinks at him. “Oh. Yeah. I was thinking that we could go to the state park five miles south—there’s plenty of wooded area.”

Dean shrugs nonchalantly. “Sounds good to me.” He clears his throat. “So how’s, uh, work?”

“Uneventful.” Cas shifts in his seat. “I did get promoted, this week.”

“What?” Dean laughs, slapping Cas on the shoulder. Cas is trying to hide a grin. “Uneventful, my ass. What’s the promotion?”

“I am now an assistant professor rather than an adjunct.”

“Meaning now you can be on the tenure track?” At Cas’ nod, Dean laughs again. “Dude, that’s awesome! Remember how much you were freaking out about finding a job after grad school?”

“I do,” Cas says seriously. “And how you told me to ‘quit whining and get laid’.”

“No, no. That was advice for a different time. For the job thing I told you to shut up and have a drink.”

“I seem to recall that I followed your advice.”

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Dean chews his lip thoughtfully. “Even though the advice was coming from a shady bartender in a shady bar.”

“They were wise words. It’s why I kept returning to that ‘shady bar’.” Cas turns to Dean, a soft smile on his face. “And the ‘shady bartender’ that became one of my best friends.”

Dean has to look away. His stomach is in knots. “Well, my boss thought you were crazy,” Dean manages to say. “A sharply dressed intellectual like you coming to that dive almost every night.”

“Only when you were working,” Cas reminds him, quietly.

Dean rolls his eyes affectionately at this. They’ve always been an unlikely pair: Cas a PhD candidate in neuroscience, Dean a high school dropout bartender. Even now, sitting in the old rumbly car, Cas looks like he’s being kidnapped by a crazy man in a beat up leather jacket.

Cas is sophisticated, brilliant. And Dean is, well… Dean.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why you hang out with me, man,” Dean sighs, mostly to himself.

Cas squints at him. “What?”

Dean pulls Baby’s gear into park, kicking up dust in the state park’s parking lot. “All right, we’re here!” he announces loudly. He fumbles with the door handle, exiting the awkward tension that has settled in the car.

Looking at him with a thoughtful gaze over the hood of the car, Cas shuts the creaky passenger door. “I want to stop by the welcome center,” he says, slowly, “to get a map.”

“Lead the way.” Dean follows Cas toward the small building, tucked in the trees. He feels his shoulder getting tenser as they approach. Somehow he doesn’t think his leather jacket and ripped jeans will be well-received.

There’s a perky brunette at the counter to greet them as they walk through the door. “Welcome! How are you guys today?”

Cas approaches the counter, giving her a shy smile. “Hello. I was wondering if we could get a map?”

“Oh, sure!” She disappears behind the counter for a moment, then bounces right back up like a damn jack-in-the-box, ponytail swinging. She spreads the map on the counter and leans over it, Cas following her lead.

Dean remains awkwardly by the door.

“So, we’re here,” she explains, pointing, “and the best trail to take is probably this one. It’s the most scenic—but it’s pretty long, almost 10 miles. This trail is shorter, but still pretty beautiful…” She trails off, her eyes wandering to Cas’ flower book in his hands. “Oh! You have the Peterson Field Guides flower book!”

Cas blinks, staring down at the object. “Oh, I…”

“My mom had that book when I was growing up. I used to read through it all the time. It’s one of the reasons I applied for this job!” She leans forward, eyes now alight with interest. “Are you going to identify some wildflowers?”

Dean’s stomach turns unpleasantly as Cas gives the girl a soft smile. “I was hoping to.”

“That’s awesome. Not many people take the time to do that anymore.”

And that’s all it takes for the conversation to take off—Cas and the woman just start rambling on about freaking  _flowers_. And as stupid as Dean finds the conversation, he can’t look away. Here’s Cas, finding a kindred spirit, a beautiful young woman who’s probably just his type—intellectual, bright, cheerful.

Cas needs that, Dean thinks—he gets down a lot. He needs a cheerful presence; not someone bringing him down with inane arguments, like who’s gonna drive anywhere—and not someone who will make fun of his outfit.

Someone who is decisively  _not_ Dean.

Dean’s throat constricts. He needs to leave. Turning on his heel, he leaves the way he came, the bell on the door announcing his departure.

He rounds the corner of the building and leans against the brick wall, chest tight. He blinks into the bright sun, staring at the treeline and expansive field in front of him, trying to find his equilibrium. It’s calm; the birds are chirping cheerfully—ignorantly. Maybe he could stay out here forever.

“Dean?”

Jolted from his reverie, Dean turns to look at Cas. He’s beautiful out here in the sun, of course—even with his stupid socks and his stupid sandals. “Heya, Cas.”

Cas approaches him slowly. The map that the woman was flirting over is clutched in his hand. “Are you okay?”

Dean stares at him a moment. Imagines saying,  _no, Cas, I’m not okay. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I only just realized it a month ago because I’m a complete dumbass, and I’m too much of a coward to say anything. Definitely not okay, nope, not at all._

Instead, he forces himself to smile. “‘course, dude. Just wanted to give you some space.”

“Space…?”

Dean turns back to the treeline, brows knitted in a frown. “She’s pretty.”

Cas gives Dean a quizzical look. “I suppose,” he says, slowly. “At any rate, she helped me decide what path we will be taking.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean pushes himself off the wall. “Where we going?”

“On the long, scenic path. If that’s all right.”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Of course it’s all right, Cas. Just let me put my jacket in the car—it’s hot as balls out here.”

“Cloudless and sunny forecast,” Cas reminds him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right as always.”

The trail is pretty scenic, Dean has to admit. There’s a creek that follows along the crooked trail, and sunlight lays shattered on the forest ground where it peeks through the thick canopy of trees overhead. Cas walks with his head bent over the flower guide book; Dean has to grab his arm and guide him around obstacles in the trail’s path. Their hands brushed, once; Dean was careful to quickly entangle himself from that situation.

Each time, Cas just murmurs a thanks, but is otherwise quiet.

Dean thinks nothing of it. He’s learned, a long time ago, that Cas gets like this sometimes. He becomes a singular force when it comes to a task, and doesn’t let anything interrupt him. Some of Dean’s fondest memories of Cas are when he’d be leaning over the bartop, his elbows getting sticky with beer and peanut shells and not even noticing, eyes bright as he excitedly explained his experiments and confounding overarching questions.

Dean would do his best to contribute, but mostly he was content just watching Cas as if through the veil to another world, inspired by Cas’ passion. It’s always been infectious.

He smiles at his back as Cas is kneeling down to examine a flower. That’s probably a big reason why he fell in love with him: his passion.

Also probably why that girl in the welcome center was so drawn to Cas. The thought makes Dean’s smile fade, and he looks away.

It’s almost an hour before Cas finally talks. “It’s beautiful out here,” he says, indicating that he’s finally acknowledging his surroundings.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. He pointedly doesn’t look in Cas’ direction as he says it.

Cas stops walking; turns to him. “Dean,” he begins. He pauses, frowning down at the dirt at their feet.

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean prompts, trying to tamper down his worry.

Cas closes his eyes. “Can we find somewhere to sit?”

“What, those socks of yours overheating you?”

Cas gives him a Look, exasperated. “Dean.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll quit it with the socks.” Dean spots a few large rocks on the creek’s beside. “We can go over there? Probably cooler by the water, too.”

Nodding, Cas follows Dean off the path, through the tall grass. Falling onto one of the boulders with a sigh, Cas brushes some dirt off his khaki shorts. Dean remains standing, arms crossed over his chest.

“Something up, Cas?”

Cas isn’t looking at him. Instead, at the dancing, minute waves of the active water. The blue of his eyes match the creek. “The reason why I wanted to spend time with you out here isn’t purely motivated by flowers.”

“Okay?”

Cas’ shoulders slump as he sighs again. “I have to… tell you something. Something I was going to tell you weeks before, but you—you broke off communication with me.”

Dean winces. “Cas, I’m really sorry about—”

“No, Dean, I’m not blaming you. I…” He raises his gaze to Dean. “Do you remember the night that local band played at your bar? It was with Charlie, Anna, Gabriel…”

Dean nods. The hot lead feeling is back in his stomach. “Uh, yeah. I remember.”

“Then you remember…” The book in Cas’ hand is clenched between white knuckles, “when you were closing the bar? After everyone had gone home?”

Closing his eyes, Dean thinks, shit. “Yeah,” he grunts out. He remembers every detail. How cold it was that night, unusual for summer, and Cas was more than a little tipsy, stumbling around on the sidewalk while Dean locked up the bar.

“And I was… inebriated.”

“Yup.”

“And a little unsteady.”

“An understatement.”

That makes Cas chuckle unexpectedly. “I’ve never held my liquor well.”

Dean snorts. He scuffs the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “Listen, Cas…”

“Please let me finish.” Cas drums his fingers against his flower guidebook nervously. “That night, I told you something. Do you remember what it was?”

It’s like Dean’s waking nightmare. He thought that Cas forgot that night—that he was too drunk to recall it. Dean, however, has run through the scene almost every night, sleepless and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. To Cas’ question, he’s silent.

“I told you that I had feelings for someone,” Cas prompts.

Cas had grabbed both Dean’s arms, whirled him around to face him. Cas said, breathlessly,  _Dean. Dean, I think I’m in love._

“I told you that the person didn’t know, but I was going to tell them.”

The feeling of Dean’s heart sinking into his shoes—the sudden ringing that was in his ears. The bone-stricken moment when he realized that he was in love, too. With the drunk, crookedly smiling man before him. He had gripped Cas’ arms tight, suddenly terrified to let him go.

“I remember,” is all Dean says.

“I never told you who it was.”

That’s because Dean ran away from the situation—as usual. Being more than a little buzzed himself, Dean felt the words on his lips: something close to an _I love you_. Felt himself tilting toward Cas’ gravity, leaning into the unknown. But then he saw Cas’ brilliant blue eyes in the dark, and he lost his nerve, turned and suggested calling Cas a cab.

He avoided the situation: as usual.

“Dean?”

Dean meets those blue eyes now. They’re earnestly staring at Dean, and Cas looks so damn hopeful.

“Fuck,” Dean grits out, running an agitated hand through his hair. He paces away from the rocks; turns back, holding his hands out imploringly. “Cas, I can’t do this.”

Cas frowns. “Do what?”

“ _This_!” Dean exclaims, throwing out an arm, gesturing between them. “Be your friend, just smile and pretend that—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated growl. “What’s even the point? This was a mistake.”

Cas scrambles to his feet, hands on his hips. “A  _mistake_?”

“Well, yeah! First you flirting with that… girl, and how I have to fucking listen to you gush,  _again_ , about how much you love this,  _whoever_ —fuck, Cas, I just can’t do it.”

Cas’ mouth is agape; Dean turns on his heel and stomps back to the trail.

“Dean!” Cas is tramping after him. “Dean, you’re not making any sense!”

Dean continues walking, not even sure if it’s the right way back to the car—he just needs to leave, needs to go drink and drive 300 miles away from this place or punch something—

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s whirled around to face Cas. “Dean, what’s going on?”

“Cas, I mean it—”

“Just let me tell you—”

“No!” Dean yells.

“Why not?” Cas shoots back at equal volume.

“Because I’m in love with you, okay, you idiot?  _I_  am!” It’s silent, and Cas is doing nothing but staring at him, chest heaving with heavy breaths. Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. “Listen, Cas, I—”

“It’s you.”

Dean opens an eye. “What?”

There’s a smile slowly forming on Cas’ face. “It’s you, dumbass. The person I’m in love with.”

Dean drops his hand, and blinks at him. “Bullshit.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Dean—”

“No, Cas, bullshit. I’m a fucking bar manager. What could you possibly see in me? Is this a joke?”

Cas narrows his eyes. His arm comes up, and he whacks Dean soundly in the head with his flower book. Ignoring Dean’s sputtered curses, Cas barks out, “Stop talking like you’re an idiot—you’re  _not_. I’m in love with you; a kind, intelligent, ineffable and enigmatic wonderful bone-headed man which happens to be you, so—”

He doesn’t get any further. Dean’s already stepping forward, taking Cas’ head in his hands, pulling him forward to meet his lips. Cas makes a small noise of surprise, and returns it with equal enthusiasm, his hands coming up to run through Dean’s hair.

They stand for endless moments in the sunshine, their mouths softly moving against each other—Dean’s stomach is turning, but now in leaps and jumps of joy.

Cas loves him. Somehow, the sun seems even brighter.

“Wait,” Dean says as they break away. Cas’ arms are around his waist, and his fingers gently grazing Cas’ cheek. “When you say ‘ineffable’… do you mean we can’t…?”

Cas laughs in exasperation, even as Dean’s smiling against his lips. “For God’s sake, you know what it means,” Cas says, bringing Dean’s face to his again, capturing him in another soft, endless kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for stopping by <3


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